Sunday, April 12, 2015

Weep, River

thoughts knot up in head
a bit of time dies with time
a lot of wisdom dies with time
a few musafirs, a bunch of gypsies 
and a listful of nomadic tribes also die out
while roving with their shadows, 
because the streets are private property of civilization
shantih is a private property of law
the green valleys have boundary walls
and they kill you if you cross
and they kill you if you eat fruits from their trees
and they kill you if you eat birds from their skies
(it doesn't really matter that you love the birds and that the birds love you too. loving and eating are not linked all the time though living and eating are.)

and now there are clouds 
and the winds are strong
and dead people howl from the skies
and live ghosts howl from the earth
the skies won't rain fire for a while
and the earth won't bleed for a while,
a tiny bit while
but that's good enough for the shadows
to feel good for a while
and play around the silhouettes in sunlight

the walls will still be there
storms will break it 
and then they'll build new walls
and roaming the world will still be a crime
as will stealing fruits and birds that belong to other humans 

but the ghosts - they'll still howl
and the silhouettes - they'll still dance dances of hanged men
and the guns smuggled out by Rimbaud will still kill us, kill them
and Giordano will leap out from his stake
and he'll leap on the killers of wisdom forever
and Lorca will play a flute from his unmarked graves
and he'll play for all the unnamed humans sleeping in all the unmarked graves of the world forever
and sweaty heaps of coal will blaze their songs out from all boilers
as the ship goes down
with all its walls, 
and with all its humans caged behind all its walls

the hills might be all blasted down for gold and money
and the woods will be gone to make way for progressive leaps of science, technology and coordinate processes of production 
but i won't think of all these now
i'll be Lorca's kid and you'll be the gypsy moon
and i'll tell you to run when the bandits come
and i'll be Rimbaud's spider
and i'll turn into a little kiss and play on your throat
as you sleep; there'll be sunlight on your throat and on your neck and on your whole body
and there'll be some moonlight too
and there'll be some starlight too
and i'll be sunlight and moonlight and starlight and be on your body
and our slave-minds will speak slave-words to each other
and our minds will kiss like our bodies do
and you'll be a river and i'll drown in you

as the shadows get longer, 
come closer
and whisper stuff that we can feel but can't understand
we'll know of the dystopic shivers and ancient tales but we won't have words to speak them. we might have some silence though. 
or we might have a lot of silence
and other sounds - like, say, the sound of cosmic waves breaking against dead radios
the sound if real waves breaking against dead toxin-factories
the sound of rain washing hot blood from hard asphalt 
the sound of unicellular life dividing up
the sound of the archeopteryx as it flaps its wings
because it yearns for the horizons
the sound of the homa-bird as it cries 
because it yearns for the earth
the sound of pens scratching asses of papers as another Stalin, another Roosevelt, another Churchill as they sign on another treaty
the sound of horse-hooves echoing on stormy mango-forests as another Clive charges out against another Siraj
and so on and so forth

point being, homer can only nod
he can't die
and the ship can only go down
it can't kill the shadows with crime and punishment

so weep for the world, Cinderella 
we'll find out your tiny shoe someday
and the gypsies will not die 
and we'll all sing and dance under the open skies someday
and our carnival of death will rage mad in every naked road of the world
and lightning will turn your face blue like it turns the rivers blue
and i'll weep with you because you are beautiful, because the world is beautiful
and because the rivers are beautiful
and we'll weep together for everything that's beautiful
because that's all that there is to this madass badass being and belonging everywhere.

No comments: